They could’ve come to their place, or she to theirs. Instead, one of them had suggested a restaurant and she’d fallen in with the decision. In any case, she wasn’t going to be the most sparkling company at lunch, because her mind was elsewhere. It was Tuesday afternoon. Just under twenty-four hours had passed since she’d finally disentangled herself from Kyle Cantrell’s arms and sent him on his way home. She’d barely been able to walk for the rest of the day, both because of exhaustion and because she’d felt sore between her legs. Sore in a good, pleasurable, fucked way. Because Donna had been fucked, good and hard, and many times. The blow job she’d given Kyle had surprised her, because it was years since she’d allowed Blair to come in her mouth, and even back when she had it wasn’t something she ever especially enjoyed. With Blair there’d always been the sense that he was... depositing something of himself, that he was spraying in her mouth and face to mark his territory, somehow.
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